


Come to this

by Vampiric_Charms



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, coping with war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiric_Charms/pseuds/Vampiric_Charms
Summary: Bo-Katan considers her current path and her past actions, and what those things mean for her future - and what it doesn't.  Ahsoka worries about her.
Relationships: Bo-Katan Kryze & Ahsoka Tano, Bo-Katan Kryze/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Come to this

**Author's Note:**

> This can be set anywhere, really. Sorry for the angst. <3

“Do you ever feel like giving up?”

Ahsoka turned startled eyes to her, but Bo-Katan ignored the attention, instead keeping her focus on the glittering stars above. So many suns, so many systems, far away and beyond their reach in the dark, deep sky. It was beautiful. 

“There’s always so much against us,” Bo-Katan added, her voice quiet and not doing much to hide her despondent frustrations. “So much against _me_. What’s to stop me from flying out into the unexplored regions of space and just - disappearing?”

“What do you mean,” Ahsoka asked carefully, “by disappearing?”

Bo-Katan shrugged indifferently, still feeling Ahsoka’s eyes on her and not caring to return her gaze. Not yet, at any rate. She ran her fingers through the thick grass under her fingers, studying it sightlessly, feeling its rough texture and the way it clung so desperately to the earth below. She considered plucking a few strands and thought better of it, continuing to touch them with gentle motions. 

“Bo,” Ahsoka prodded again, “what do you mean?”

There was genuine concern in her voice now and Bo-Katan finally glanced at her, though briefly. Just long enough to catch the frightened blue shimmer in her eyes caught with stars. Bo-Katan looked away again. 

Her wet hair was dripping thin rivulets down her back, making her shirt stick to her skin, and she shivered in the cold nighttime air. Ahsoka touched her shoulder, adjusting the blanket that had fallen away minutes before. Bo-Katan hadn’t bothered to fix it then and didn’t exactly care so much now, either. 

But Bo-Katan covered Ahsoka’s fingers with her own when Ahsoka didn’t pull away, a small concession for not being able to really look at her. 

“I’m just so exhausted, Ahsoka,” Bo-Katan murmured honestly, feeling broken open by the raw admission, “and I’m tired of fighting. All I have ever known for the entirety of my life is war.”

“That’s not true, Bo,” Ahsoka tried to tell her consolingly, but Bo-Katan just bit out a harsh laugh before she could say anything more to bolster her useless justification. 

“Oh, please, Ahsoka. Yes, it is.”

Ahsoka didn’t try again, and Bo-Katan could see her crestfallen expression from her periphery. It made Bo-Katan’s soul ache. Very quietly, she pointed out, “You didn’t answer my question, Ahsoka.”

“You’re scaring me, Bo,” Ahsoka said, squeezing Bo-Katan’s shoulder, still gripped under her fingers. But she replied just the same. “Once, after the Order fell. I felt like giving up then.” Before Bo-Katan could say anything, she added, “I _didn’t_ give up, though, and I found my purpose again. What’s going on? Why are you talking like this?”

“I’m just tired,” Bo-Katan said again listlessly. “That’s all.”

Ahsoka stared at her severely, eyes narrowed in the darkness. “Do you really expect me to believe,” she began, “you’d be happy on some far-off planet away from your people? Away from Mandalore and your cause?”

“No,” Bo-Katan snapped irritably. “But I’m not happy now, so what difference would it make?”

Something in Bo-Katan’s chest caved into itself with the way Ahsoka’s saddened gaze bored into her at that, and Bo-Katan swallowed around it, kept her face turned firmly to the sky above them, to the stars and suns and galaxies so far away. She pulled her hand from Ahsoka’s, dropped it to her lap. 

“Do my efforts here even matter?” she mumbled, mostly to herself now. “Maybe I should give up, let another Mandalorian take my place. I just…” She sighed, not even sure how to vocalize what she wanted to say, and she shook her head, finally looking down over the expansive grassy field cast in shadows around them. 

Ahsoka reached out and grabbed Bo-Katan’s hand again, obviously reading the signs Bo-Katan was putting out about needing distance and blatantly ignoring them. 

“You just what, Bo?”

“I want to know what peace feels like,” Bo-Katan whispered, “just once in my life.”

“But you _will_!” Ahsoka told her intensely. “One day you will, I know it.”

Finally, finally, Bo-Katan turned her head to meet Ahsoka’s earnest gaze and she frowned, a deep-set grief settling in her stomach to clench fiercely. “Will I, though? Truly? _Your_ wars, Ahsoka, those will end. You will find everything you ever wish for, and it’s honorable you believe I will, too. But Mandalorians? Our wars will continue, they will _always_ continue.”

Ahsoka looked at her like she was about to cry, her eyes glittering dangerously in the starlit darkness. Bo-Katan blinked and looked away quickly before that radiating sadness could catch. Suddenly the blanket felt too heavy even as the water falling from her hair was like ice.

“Don’t say that,” said Ahsoka, almost angry with her emotion. She threaded their fingers together, refusing to let Bo-Katan pull away from her this time. “Bo, don’t. If peace is something you want, you can make it happen.”

Bo-Katan glanced at her briefly, taking in her hopeful face and bright, passionate expression. She didn’t have the energy to argue, to tell Ahsoka all the ways her beautiful, perfect idealism was not true. 

She let Ahsoka continue to hold tight to her hand and smiled at her, though she did not feel the warmth of the touch the way she usually did. 

Instead she felt cold, empty.

Alone.

Ahsoka seemed to realize this, the way she always understood Bo-Katan far too well. Better than anyone ever had. “I’ll go with you,” she murmured, the words so soft Bo-Katan only just heard her. “If you do want to leave, start over somewhere - I’ll go with you. You won’t have to do it alone.”

“I know,” Bo-Katan said. And she did know. The truth of that felt light, then, weightless. “Thank you, Ahsoka.”

Perhaps Bo-Katan never would know peace from the desperately violent wars she always fought. But here, now, she knew calm, and she knew love, and she knew devotion. Ahsoka gave her all of those things, even when all the galaxy gave her only violence.

She looked up again at the stars, far away.


End file.
